


Castiel Gets a Lap Dance

by viscouslover



Series: Lap Dance 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Fluff, M/M, Strip Tease, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:18:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscouslover/pseuds/viscouslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has been planning his sister's bachelorette party for months. He's ready to enjoy the evening from a comfortable distance. That is, until a freckled Adonis is suddenly straddling his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castiel Gets a Lap Dance

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The Bunker. I’m your host, Sam."

Castiel takes in the man in front of him. With his floppy hair and dopey grin, Sam appears to be a puppy trapped in the body of a giant. Gabriel, unsurprisingly, looks like he wants to pet him. Not for the first time, Castiel wonders what kind of latin-cide describes murdering your cousin.

“Here are the rules: We don’t touch the dancers.” Sam begins his practised spiel as Castiel and his group follow him into the club, “Cell phones are prohibited. If you need to make a call, please do so outside or in the washrooms. No photography without prior consent. Please make payments directly to the dancers. No climbing on the stage.

“And _no touching the dancers_ ,” the host throws a menacing glare at Gabriel’s hands, which are beginning to wander dangerously close to Sam’s backside. “Any other questions or concerns, please direct them to your server.”

Castiel has been planning this night out for months. His older sister, Anna, is getting married in three weeks. For reasons unknown to Castiel, she tasked him with the organization of her bachelorette party. Now, Anna is practically vibrating with excitement.

Their host leads them to their table somewhere in the middle of the crowd. A sufficient distance from the stage, without needing to hug the entry to the washrooms at the back of the club. Satisfied with the location, Castiel gives their host a ten dollar bill and a perfunctory head nod.

Castiel surveys his fellow audience members. He would estimate that the crowd is ninety percent women. Age doesn’t seem to be a limiting factor. There are people here from young students to elderly grandmothers. However, they all seem to have devolved into the type of hysterics most often associated with whichever boy band is currently topping the charts. Could they really be so enamoured by the dicks on display?

It’s not that he disapproves of seeing naked men. Quite the contrary; Cas has always had a keen appreciation of the human body, male or female. What worries him is that everything is so exposed. Castiel can't imagine enjoying his intimate moments being this public.

“So, Anna,” Hester leans across the table conspiratorially, “Like what you see?”

“It’s like being hit with a tsunami of penises!” Anna exclaims. She looks over her shoulder and hits Castiel with a grin so broad the it threatens to snap her face in half.

“Good thing you’re a strong swimmer,” Castiel deadpans.

Castiel is glad that his sister seems to approve of his choice of activity for her bachelorette party. But, being faced with the aforementioned wave of genitalia is causing him to seriously question his judgement.

They’ve settled into their seats by the time their server approaches them.

“Evening folks, I’m Kevin and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?”

Castiel gawks at the prices for a moment before settling on a beer. Everyone else orders drinks of increasing complexity; culminating with Balthazar’s order of some sort of diet-cuervo-cosmo-sex-a-tini.

As their drinks arrive, the drapes around the stage begin to withdraw, exposing a single chair at center stage. There sits a man, back facing the crowd as he straddles the chair. He’s clad in nothing more than low-slung jeans and pair of leather work boots. The opening chords of Ready for Love fill the air as the dancer slowly begins to gyrate his hips into the chair.

“Oh my god,” Rachel gapes, “It’s just like Magic Mike.”

“Why does everyone feel the need to compare this experience to that movie?” Castiel muses to no one in particular.

The dancer’s muscles flex under his freckled shoulders as he grips the chair and rolls his head in time with the music.

“You’re just upset because you think people are gonna think you’ve actually seen something that was released this century,” Gabriel responds, winking lasciviously at a passing server.

Castiel isn’t sure why Gabe invited himself along this evening, but he’s already regretting the decision.

On the stage, the dancer is rolling his spine and bucking his crotch into the seat in a smooth, steady rhythm. Castiel is captivated.

“Or you’re worried people are gonna think you ripped off the idea.”

It seems that any time that a question doesn’t necessitate an answer, Gabriel feels that it’s his perfect chance for a pithy remark.

Castiel huffs a sigh and tears his eyes away to look at his frustratingly correct cousin, “I’ll have you know that I thought of this idea long before I was aware of that movie.”

“Cassie, sweetheart, if we waited until you were aware of pop culture before heading out into the world, we’d all die very old, very lonely men,” Balthazar adds.

“And women!” Anna pipes up.

“Quite right, m’dear,” Balthazar agrees, tipping his glass towards Anna. The damn thing is populated with what must be the entirety of this state’s tiny umbrellas.

“Besides,” Gabriel cuts in, “Not everyone has your, shall we say, 'restraint' when it comes to appreciating the male form. Right ladies?”

Hester and Rachel blush in false modesty. Anna gives Gabriel a high-five.

“Preach it, Gabe!”

\----

After a few more songs and several more beers, Castiel is starting to see the appeal of this place. Beautiful men on display, but at a distance. No pressure or expectations for social interaction. Just an opportunity to appreciate the male form without reservation.

Not to mention the surprisingly high production value of their dances. Castiel was particularly partial to the Beauty and the Beast routine a surprisingly gruff dancer performed two songs back. Castiel doesn't usually go for the bearded, teddy bear type. But, something about the kind-hearted monster routine was surprisingly charming.

Suddenly, a body is crowding Castiel’s personal space.

Castiel looks up and is met with a wide, cocky grin.

It’s the dancer from the first routine. Castiel can’t place the face at first, but he recognizes the smattering of freckles and strong, broad shoulders immediately. Oh, but the face is just as lovely. And twice as gorgeous.

“Hey sweetheart,” the dancer drawls, “I heard you like to rock.”

Oh no. Castiel can already feel himself heating up into a particularly crimson shade of shame.

Gabriel snickers somewhere behind him. He must have arranged this. Castiel is already planning where to hide the body.

The dancer wastes no time setting up a small platform and immediately starts to move, rubbing his hands up and down his sides. He’s clearly toned, athletic, but in that soft way that makes it seem like he’s never needed to go to the gym; like he was simply born to be an effortless Adonis.

Castiel can barely make out the warbling vocals of Cherry Pie over the blood rushing in his ears. He’s going to hate this.

The dancer’s hands move past his stomach and tease into the waistband of his jeans. With practiced ease, he undoes the fly in a single motion. The dancer slides his hands back towards his ass and drops the jeans to sit just below the bottom of his cheeks.

Apparently, underwear are an occupational hazard in this industry; Castiel is suddenly facing a fully exposed cock.

Castiel frantically darts his eyes around trying to land his focus on anything other than the raging hard on immediately before him. He’s never paid attention the particular droop of someone’s testicles before, but suddenly it seems like an area that requires intense concentration.

He tries to think of anything to keep his eyes from straying to the lightly freckled hand moving in slow, smooth strokes along what may very well be the most perfect penis that Castiel has ever had the misfortune of being unable to touch.

Castiel reminds himself that he _is not_ enjoying this lap dance.

The dancer leans over him to stage whisper in his ear, “What’s your name, sugar?”

“Cas- Castiel!” He squawks.

Behind him, Castiel can barely make out the joyous whoops of his former best friends. He starts to count backwards from one hundred and imagines his Great Uncle Joshua gardening in hot pants. He thinks of his ancient third grade teacher in a bikini. Desperately, he thinks of his own mother giving a sponge bath to his infirmed grandfather.

Nothing is working.

Castiel watches at the dancer gyrates his hips in a tantalizingly slow rotation, leaning down and rolling his hips over Castiel’s lap. Castiel tries to avert his gaze and locks eyes with the dancer. For a moment, he forgets his embarrassment and thinks of nothing but green meadows and rolling hillsides.

Fuck, the _rolling_. The dancer places one hand on the back of Castiel’s chair and one hand on the back of his neck. He starts to gently pull Castiel’s head down while thrusting his cock up into Castiel’s face. Of course, he’s simulating oral sex. How clever.

Castiel _is not_ turned on.

The dancer removes his hands and reaches back into the pocket of his lowered jeans. Arching his back, he removes a small strip of blue silk and begins to rub it along his cock. He leans back into Castiel’s space, continually running the silk along his harden shaft.

Castiel can’t be sure, but he thinks the cocky grin is starting to morph into one of actual pleasure.

The dancer moves the silk to Castiel’s hands and begins to loosely tie them together. Castiel inhales a sharp intake of breath.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” the dancer ghosts his words over the shell of Castiel’s ear.

“No. No, keep going,” Castiel breathes.

The dancer then all but climbs into Castiel’s lap and begins to raise the pace of his slow and sexy movements. He straddles Castiel and begins to grind against him, undoubtedly feeling Castiel’s stirring interest. Castiel closes his eyes and thinks of England.

Castiel reminds himself that the dancer is being paid for this. He is a professional. He probably feels the erections of countless men in a given work week. This is not personal. Castiel will not be dreaming of this moment for the rest of his life.

Just as Castiel feels he could start to enjoy the dance for its technical merits, the song ends.

Castiel is stunned as the dancer backs away, collapses the small platform, and tucks himself back into his pants. With a final wink at the table, he quickly moves towards the back of the club. Castiel’s eyes trail after him, but the dancer is lost in the crowd.

Relieved, Castiel is able to finally shoot a death-glare at his soon-to-be-disowned cousin. He tries to communicate the depths of his loathing through the deep lines of his frown. Gabriel is a traitorous monster who deserves nothing but the utmost contempt.

“Now _that_ was a show!” Balthazar punctuates his enthusiasm by sloshing his elaborate drink all over the table.

\----

Fortunately, Castiel doesn’t need to endure his shame much longer.

Anna soon decides that she’s done at the club and they make their way to a less-crowded bar to round out the night.

“Did you enjoy your evening, Anna?” Castiel asks, once they’ve settled down with their nightcaps.

“Oh, Cassie, it was such a blast! The girls and I haven’t had a night out like that in years.”

“That makes me very happy.” Castiel lets a small smile grace his lips.

“I don’t think you’ve had a night out like that before, like, ever.” Hester chimes in.

“She’s right,” Balthazar adds, “When was the last time you had a ride like that, eh Cassie?”

“Balthazar, I’ll have you know that it’s none of your business when I’ve had occasion to-”

“Speak of the devil,” Balthazar cuts in. His eyes trail just over Castiel’s shoulder and he can’t help but follow the gaze.

Castiel squints towards the bar. Gabriel, of course, has already siddled up to the tall host from earlier in the evening. He’s stroking the man’s broad chest, who really doesn’t seem to mind. Beside the gigantor is the freckled dancer and the dancer who played the Beast.

Castiel can’t help staring. Green-Eyes notices his stare and breaks into a wide grin. Castiel shoots his glance to the side, and catches the eye of the bearded dancer instead. He looks directly at Castiel and sends him the most menacing smile Castiel's ever experienced. Castiel is unsettled and darts his eyes away again.

Oh shit. His dancer is now swaggering towards him. Castiel needs to learn not to stare.

“Hey, uh, Cas-something, right?” The Adonis opens.

Castiel reaches wildly for his friends, but they’ve all managed to slink away. Castiel tries and fails to be surprised by their disloyalty.

“Hello again,” he grimaces. “I’m surprised you remember me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t forget you,” the freckled god chuckles, absently running a hand down his neck. “We don’t usually get that many dudes in the place. Especially dudes who look like they’d rather be anywhere else in the world when I’m using my best moves.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to be there,” Castiel assures him, “I had simply planned the evening for my sister. She’s getting married.”

“Right,” the dancer frowns, “You’re just along for the ride.”

Castiel can feel his blush ignite at the turn of phrase

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” he mumbles. “Certain events of this evening were simply, unexpected. But, not unpleasantly so,” he hastily adds.

A tentative smile plays at the dancer’s lips. Laughter trickles over from the bar. Castiel is suddenly very aware of their audience.

“I don’t want to bother you if you’re out with your, um,” Castiel gestures vaguely over the dancer’s shoulder towards his companions, “Friends?”

“Oh, no, I’m not, uh, with them,” The dancer glances back and stumbles over his words, “I mean, yeah, Benny is my friend. Sam’s my brother. But, we’re not out together. Well, we are, obviously. But, I’m free. To, you know, go out with you. Be out with you!

“I mean, you’re not bothering me.” He runs an embarrassed hand down his face, “I’m Dean, by the way. Can’t remember which stage name they were using tonight, but Dean’s the real one.”

“I actually didn’t catch the stage name,” Castiel admits. “I was rather, um, distracted, during your performance.”

“Right, no, I get that,” Dean is nodding and taking a step back and Castiel is suddenly very displeased by that. “I mean, there’s so many hot dudes there. And you’re probably not even into dudes. You were just there for your sister, right? Moral support. I get that.”

Castiel’s hand involuntarily reaches forward and grabs Dean’s wrist. Dean’s eyes go wide.

“You misunderstand me, Dean.” Castiel tries to convey his meaning by keeping focused eye contact. Dean just stands there, stunned, so Castiel tries using words, “I was simply caught off guard this evening. I was distracted because I usually prefer my intimate moments to be more _intimate_.”

“Intimate, huh?” Dean’s sly smirk slowly returns, “Well, what if I promised you a private dance?”

Castiel realizes he’s still holding onto Dean’s wrist. He pulls him in closer and lines up their hips, giving a single, slow roll.

“I believe,” Castiel whispers, “That it’s my turn to put on a show.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [bunnyismyowner](http://bunnyismyowner.tumblr.com/), who requested [lap dances](http://viscouslover.tumblr.com/post/103948761622/bunnyismyowner-answered-your-question-i-want-to).
> 
> Beta'd by the beautiful [Beka](http://agirlfromottawa.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I can be found at [viscouslover.tumblr.com](http://viscouslover.tumblr.com/).


End file.
